Hide and Seek
by Mint-Chocolate-Leaves
Summary: Feliciano Vargas never wanted to have to live his life undetected, running from the law. Ludwig Beilschmidt never wanted to have to find the Italian and take him to the authorities. However fate works in difficult ways, and the two men don't really have a choice. GerIta
1. Chapter 1

Title: _Hide and Seek_

Character(s): _Italy + Germany_

Summary: _Feliciano Vargas never wanted to have to live his life undetected, running from the law. Ludwig Beilschmidt never wanted to have to find the Italian and take him to the authorities. However fate works in difficult ways, and the two men don't really have a choice._

Main Pairing: **GerIta**

* * *

Chapter One

Feliciano Vargas let out a ragged breath. Beneath him, wet grass tickled at his feet, causing an itch to appear between his toes. He took a deep breath, trying to regain his posture despite the dull ache of his legs. It had been so long, Feliciano realised, since he had relaxed and taken a break. However, the Italian knew that it would be a long time before he could even contemplate the idea.

He looked down to the bottom of the hill, wondering whether he'd lost sight of the terrifying farmer who's land he'd crossed earlier. So far there wasn't a sight of the man, and there wasn't a sign of the other man either – the one who'd been chasing him through Europe for the last five months.

Feliciano didn't know much about the man who was trying to find him – only that the man himself was very tall, blonde and German. Due to these facts, the young Italian stayed away from all people, trying to keep to the countryside as much as he could. The only downside to the country side though, was the farmers. They would leave their homes in a blunder of emotions, with their shot gun at hand, not even hesitating to shoot.

The brunette took his time to muse on how lucky he was to have not been caught by any of the bullets yet. He was quite glad that he was lucky in at least one way.

It wasn't long before Feliciano realised that he had to keep going. The sun was about to set, and he could only keep going properly for an hour or two before he was completely exhausted. He had to find somewhere he could stay for the night without putting himself in danger.

Gathering another breath, Feliciano didn't waste any more time, instead jumping slightly on his feet to wake his muscles up. He broke off into a sudden sprint – there was a forest nearby, if he could get there, he could at least have some shelter for the night. It was never safe to go to sleep in the forest, but it was safer than staying out in the open.

After all, Feliciano never really knew when the German would show up, hot on his tail again. His feet padded against the grass, his heart pounded against his chest. Already, Feliciano was breathing heavily, telling himself that he needed more stamina if he was ever going to get away.

He let out a small yelp. His foot had caught on a stone, again, and he could feel a bruise forming already. He cursed in his head – words that he'd heard his older brother yell at him over the years. It was surprising just how many different languages his brother, Lovino, had learnt to cuss in.

Feliciano's eye sight blurred slightly, tears forming in his eyes partly because of the pain in his foot and also because he missed his big brother so much. Letting out a sad sigh, Feliciano tried to brush his tears away before they could even start. Lovino would have called him a wimp already if he was there, but Feliciano was just so scared.

The woods were nearer now. Trees littered the ground in the countryside like rubbish did in the cities. Leaves seemed to cover the forest like a roof, and it was so beautiful that had Feliciano been in a different situation, he would have spent his time painting the scene in front of him, with flicks and flourishes.

It wasn't so far now, the brunette told himself, sprinting even further despite the ache in his stomach telling him he needed rest. His legs screamed out in agony, telling him to stop, but Feliciano knew that he couldn't. Not yet.

The forest didn't seem too big, but it wasn't that small either. Feliciano had been in far bigger forests before – though he'd been terrified and wanted to get out of them as soon as possible. Upon reaching the forest, Feliciano finally accepted that he couldn't run anymore. Steadying himself to a walk, he blinked away sleep quickly.

There didn't seem to be any animal tracks that belonged to dangerous animals, but still, Feliciano kept alert as he looked around for some sort of shelter to sleep in. He knew that there wouldn't be a cottage to stay in, or anything comfortable to sleep on.

It took a while, but eventually Feliciano found a tree that was surrounded in bushes. There was a small patch around the side of it that was just grass, and slowly, Feliciano lowered himself down onto it. He had about as much space as a single mattress would offer him, and he smiled softly at the amount of room he had – he hadn't had this much room to sleep in for a few weeks.

Closing his eyes, Feliciano wished desperately that he wouldn't get caught during the night.

* * *

"So where are you now west?"

The car engine hummed quietly, a background noise that was easily ignored. The voice was distorted, crackly – the phone that was built into the car system wasn't good it seemed. Ludwig Beilschmidt let out a sigh,

"Austria," he replied, taking a turn on the road. "After I cut him off in Paris, he fled to the Swiss border. Last week he crossed through to here."

On the other side of the phone, Ludwig could here Gilbert 'hmm' as he thought of a response. Ludwig blinked, waiting for his brother to come up with something that would help him on the case. It was something that the brother's had been doing for a while – they would try to make the other think of every possibility.

"Last week?" Gilbert finally asked. "How do you know?"

Ludwig replied, "Camera's on the border."

The German could hear the faint crackles through the phone that was Gilbert nodding. He took one of his hands off of the steering wheel to change the gear of the car. He sped up slightly.

"Is there any chance that he's going to cross the border back into Italy?"

Ludwig stopped for a moment to think that idea over. He hadn't thought that the Italian would try and go back to his home country – he mused over everything he knew about Feliciano Vargas, before shaking his head.

"Nein. He can't get back into Italy without me knowing. He's not in Germany either. All evidence points to him being here in Austria. I don't think he's stupid enough to head into Innsbruck, but he seems to be heading in that direction."

"Any contacts in Austria?" Gilbert asked. Ludwig knew that by now his brother had started pacing, trying to put all of the information together – in fact, Ludwig could imagine Gilbert starting to write all of the information up on the whiteboards in the office he barely ever left.

"None – an acquaintance of his called Roderich is Austrian, but lives in Hungary. He doesn't seem to want anything to do with Vargas anyway, so chances of the Italian going to him for help are low."

Gilbert seemed to contemplate this for a moment, and through the phone, Ludwig could hear the squeak of a board pen – his brother must really want to get Ludwig's case done and dusted.

"So he's headed in the direction of Innsbruck..." Ludwig heard his brother mutter. The blonde knew not to speak while Gilbert tossed the facts around. "...Perhaps then he'll double back and head in Liechtenstein after getting some supplies? Or possibly he's heading to Hungary on the odd chance that he might be able to seek refuge with the Austrian if only for a few days... Where are you now?"

Ludwig took a moment to think over what his brother had said, before remembering that he'd been asked a question. He looked up at a sign on the road.

"Twenty miles away from Landeck – I'm going to find a hotel and turn in there for the night. I doubt that Vargas is past the city yet anyway."

Ludwig changed the gear on the car again, before using his hand to stifle a yawn. His brother seemed to sense that he was tired but he didn't act on it.

"Any possible leads?" He asked, and Ludwig could imagine his brother sat back in his office chair, with his feet up on his desk and his pet bird on his shoulder.

"Nein," Ludwig replied quietly, "can you try and turn some up for me?"

Gilbert seemed to laugh through the phone, though it came out more like a crackly cackle through the phone. Tomorrow, Ludwig decided that he'd keep his Bluetooth out – he couldn't deal with the annoying car's phone again.

"I'm sure the awesome me can do that." Gilbert laughed down the phone, "I'm not in this office just to lounge around. I might not get a whole lot done tonight though – boss wants me to attend a late meeting tonight – some American agents are flying in."

Ludwig nodded, though he knew that his brother had no way of hearing him. He cursed himself for his own stupidity.

"Ja, I understand. Thanks Gilbert. I'll talk to you soon – Try and get some sleep for once."

Even over the phone Ludwig knew his brother was smirking as he said goodbye and hung up the phone. Turning the car into the road that lead into Landeck, he sped up slightly, looking out for a hotel to stay in for the night.

* * *

Author's Notes:

_Hi guys. This will be the only Author's note on this story I'm thinking, so don't worry, I'm not going to lengthen my story by considerable amounts by telling you guys tonnes of unneccesary things. I loved this idea, and have decided to do it. If you like this then leave a review telling me that you do. If you want to read more of this then follow the story - and if you love this so far, then favourite it._

_Not alot more I can say really... oh... I might write Gilbert's side of this story as well, if you guys want me too, but it's all up to you really. Until the next chapter, ciao! Mint~_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

When Feliciano opened his eyes, he was greeted with tense muscles and an empty stomach. He blinked, looking up at his surroundings, trying to remember the way out of the forest. Gingerly, he stood up.

Birds were chirping around him – the forest seemed to be sporting all sorts of animals. A squirrel ran out in front of Feliciano when he'd walked from the cover of the tree. He recoiled. He sighed – he wanted to go home. He knew that he couldn't, but still, he wanted to go back to the Italian village he'd grown up in.

Looking down at himself, Feliciano let out a bitter sigh. Last night he hadn't realised how muddy the grass he'd been sleeping on was. However, even though the forest wasn't bright, he could see how dirty his legs and arms were. He imagined that his hair properly was a mess with leaves and the likes.

He looked down at his foot – it took only a second to realise that the stone from yesterday had bruised, and was the cause for the throbbing in his foot. Feliciano swung his arms as he walked further into the woods. Well, he assumed he was walking further through the woods, he could just as easily been walking out.

Feliciano's throat was too dry. He didn't have any resources left, having run out of water the previous day, and buying food when he'd eventually find a market. His stomach growled at him, and quickly Feliciano hugged his stomach to try to hush the sound. He hated the fact that his stomach kept reminding him that he was hungry – it wasn't his fault that he was in this mess.

Feliciano's ears perked up when he heard the sound of a stream. At first, he jumped slightly, paranoia sparring through his tense muscles, before he realised that it was just the sound of a river and nothing else. Then, he found himself speeding towards the sound as quickly as possible.

It had been a while since Feliciano had smiled properly, but at the sight of the river and the small waterfall he decided that now was worth it. It was brighter by the river, and Feliciano stared in wonder at the beauty in front of him. If he had a camera, he'd be taking picture after picture of the place.

Taking advantage of the sudden water, Feliciano quickly rushed up to the river, using the water to wash the mud from his hands. He stripped down, placing his clothes by the side of the river, before lowering him down into the river. There wasn't a strong current, and the water wasn't very deep so Feliciano started scrubbing away the mud on his body. It wasn't very effective without soap, but Feliciano managed to get most of the grime and dirt off of himself.

After he was satisfied that he was clean enough, the Italian swam over to his clothes, pulling his shirt off of the bank. He pushed it into the water, in an attempt to try and wash away whatever dirt he could, before pulling it over his head and putting it back on – he did the same for his shorts too, hoping that they would dry quickly in the summer heat.

Once he was finished in the water, the brunette scrambled out of the water, feeling more refreshed and awake than he had for a while. Though his brother had taught him not to, Feliciano quickly scooped up some of the fresh water and drank it quickly. The Italian didn't care whether he got ill from it; he would have gotten sick if he didn't drink anything either way.

Standing up, Feliciano shook his head slightly, as if the action would dry off his hair. He knew that he had to keep going, but he wanted to stay for a while longer. After a short argument with himself, Feliciano decided that he had to continue through the forest.

He walked slowly, trying to get used to the small pain in his foot. He passed through the river once again, pulling himself up on to the bank. Smiling sadly, Feliciano took one glance over his shoulder at the beauty of the river, before weaving his way in through the trees.

* * *

Ludwig awoke to three different emails, all from his brother. All three contained a possible lead, and the German skimmed through them quickly, seeing which ones sounded reasonable. It was common fact that as the night progressed, Gilbert's ideas became far more farfetched, but usually he would find some good leads.

Ludwig hadn't expected any less from his brother, though he was slightly sad that his brother had stayed up all night, each email having been sent after two hour intervals. Despite the meeting he'd had last night, Gilbert had come up with more than enough information.

The first email contained a twenty mile diameter of where Vargas could be headed – this was based from calculations on how far someone could travel in a week, if sticking to the countryside. Ludwig had mentioned before that the Italian seemed to prefer villages to cities. This by itself though wasn't enough – though the German now had a basis of where to search.

The second email showed Ludwig in depth reports on the Austrian, Roderich Edelstein, going in to detail about his previous life in Austria. His family all lived in Vienna, so Gilbert had included that the chances of the Italian going to the Edelstein's for refuge was higher than most.

The last email seemed like a lead that Ludwig could carry out quickly. His brother had included directions to a farmer's house who'd phoned the police the previous night to complain about trespassers on his property. Apparently, the police had been delayed, and because the farmer's land was miles from any village or city, they still had yet to show.

Ludwig quickly sent his brother a message in reply thanking him for the information, before telling his brother that he would be making his way down to the farm first – he noticed suddenly that the farm fit in to his brother's diameter theory on the map.

* * *

The drive to the farm didn't take as long as Ludwig thought that it would have, and he found himself there within an hour and a half. When he was nearer to the farm, he drove slowly up the pebbled drive way, parking his car in the designated space. He opened the door to the car lazily, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Walking up the driveway, Ludwig pressed a button on his car keys. The car let out a beep, telling him it was locked. When he reached the door to the farm house, the German tapped his knuckles against the door twice. He took a step backwards as he waited for the door to open.

The old mahogany door opened after a few seconds, revealing a man with blonde hair. He was scowling, though he seemed to adopt his expression to a neutral poker face when he looked up at Ludwig.

"Who are you?" The man wasn't being rude, he was simply curious. Ludwig wasn't thrown off from this question.

"I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt." Ludwig admitted, going into his pocket and producing some I.D. "I'm here to talk about the man who was trespassing on your ground yesterday. Would it be alright to ask you some questions?"

The man stared Ludwig down for a moment. Then he nodded, opening the door widely for Ludwig to enter the house.

"Please come in." The man spoke without emotion. "My name is Vash Zwingli."

Ludwig nodded, stepping through the door. Vash led him in to the front room, asking him to sit. Both men did – sitting opposite each other. Ludwig pulled a small A5 notepad from his pocket, along with a pen to write with. He started almost immediately.

"Can you tell me what time you noticed the man trespassing?" Ludwig asked, writing down the words 'time of sighting'. Vash replied that it had been around seven the previous evening. Ludwig added 'Approx. 1900 hours' to his notebook.

"What did he do while you saw him? Did he steal any of your crops?"

"He just walked in to start off with. Then he took a small amount of my crops – it really freaked my younger sister out. When he saw me, he bolted, the coward. I chased him off my farm, but I lost him after that."

The German wrote each word down as an exact replica to what Vash was saying. He nodded to tell he was listening.

"I see... and can you tell me what the man looked like?"

The farmer nodded, taking a moment to think. Ludwig sat quietly from where he was staying, waiting patiently. Finally he answered,

"He was tanned. Light brown hair – rather skinny. In his mid-twenties I think. He had a single curl in his hair, on his left side I think..."

Silently Ludwig thanked his brother for staying up late to find this lead. He kept his face neutral though as he looked at Vash.

He asked, "Which direction was he headed?"

Vash took a moment to think again, before replying. "He was headed to Reutte. In that direction I guess. If you're going to go looking for him, then go to Reutte."

Ludwig quickly finished the interrogation process, and as he left the farm-house, opening his car door, he smiled. He was so close – he'd catch Vargas this time.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Reutte. That was all Feliciano could make out as he stumbled down the road with broken grace. Feliciano couldn't read the foreign language, but he knew that the sign in front of him said, 'welcome to Reutte'. It was all too overwhelming, that Feliciano couldn't help but let out a small sob.

It caught in the back of his throat, and he tried to wipe away tears that weren't visible. He was still dehydrated, despite the water that he'd drunk the previous day. He was so tired – he wanted to give up. He knew that if he saw anyone who wanted to take him away, he wouldn't be able to even run one hundred metres before collapsing.

The world suddenly caught up to him, and Feliciano told himself to get over his exhaustion. He couldn't afford to get caught – not when so much was waiting on him. He had to find a way to get home to his brother. Lovino would understand, and then his fratello would get him out of the mess he found himself in without even needing to blink.

He got into Reutte after twenty minutes, even though he'd probably only been five minutes away. Feliciano tripped over his own feet, landing at the feet of another. The Italian looked up, with fearful amber eyes, only to realise that he was looking at a girl who looked around his own age.

Feliciano tried to stand up. However, as soon as he managed to stand, his legs gave out again. Feliciano let out a cry in surprise.

The girl in front of him quickly rushed to his aid, helping him to his feet, and guiding him over to a bench. Feliciano didn't even know there were any benches around, he was too disoriented.

"What's your name?" The girl asked him, speaking in her native language. Feliciano had to remind himself for a few moments that he wasn't in Italy, and that he couldn't reply in Italian. He was suddenly glad that he knew German, as that was the language they spoke in Austria.

Austria! That was where Feliciano was!

"My name's Veneziano." He croaked, throat dry as his eyelids drooped. He felt guilty for lying to someone who was kind enough to spare him some time, but otherwise knew that it was completely necessary to stay under the radar.

His throat was sore, but Feliciano realised that he couldn't do much on that note. Sleep called to him, whispering words in his ear, telling him that he'd be safe, but Feliciano fought to stay conscious.

His eyesight blurred, and he had to strain his ears to hear the girl who was talking to him.

"Are you alright..?" She asked him, "Are you ill..?"

Feliciano wanted to reply – god, he wanted very much to reply and tell the kind girl that he was alright – but he couldn't find the words. His eyelids closed, hesitantly, as he fought a losing battle against sleep.

He knew that he was in one of his weakest moment. The Italian just hoped that he wasn't caught while he took a moment to rest.

"Veneziano? Veneziano!"

* * *

Ludwig had been in the town of Reutte for a few days. At first, he had thought that Vargas wouldn't be anywhere near the town – case studies claimed that the Italian would never step foot into civilisation after all. However, gossip spread through the town quickly, and he soon learnt that there was a man who'd shown up the previous morning and lost conscious.

If that didn't shout out 'suspicious activity' in the town, the Ludwig didn't know what did. Ever since he'd heard the gossip, he'd decided that he'd play the part of tourist and stay in the town for a while until he learnt more about the man. Or rather, he'd stay until he'd learnt more about Vargas' condition and apprehended the man.

He received a phone call from Gilbert not too long after he'd gone out for a walk. He scowled as he picked up his phone – his brother knew the time zones were only different by an hour, and that he was working.

"Ludwig!" The German heard his brother shout down through the phone. Ludwig paled, stopping in his walk, as he sat down on one of the benches that were by the dirt path he'd been travelling down. He'd only heard Gilbert this panicked three times in his life.

"Gilbert..." Ludwig's shoulders were tense. "What's happening over there? What's wrong?"

The thought that his brother was unhappy made Ludwig close his eyes. He re-opened them when he knew that his brother was about to talk. Scanning the area around him with his eyes, Ludwig listened as his brother spoke.

"It's getting dangerous over here Ludwig. I don't want you coming back anytime soon, alright?" His brother sounded hysterical, and in the background of the phone, he could hear the drone of his brother's laptop. "I want you to stall as much as you can before getting back here alright?"

"Gilbert... what's going...?"

"I don't want you coming back to London until I phone you again, alright?" Ludwig suddenly realised that his brother wasn't having one of his usual panic attacks, and paled again. His brother had always been anxious growing up, but after he had been shot out in the field, it had gotten much worse.

This wasn't normal. Gilbert was usually rational and logical, not panicked and hysterical.

"Bruder-"

"Promise me Ludwig!" Gilbert hissed down the phone. "You'll stay away from the main buildings. Promise me! You stay in Austria until I call again, alright?"

Stunned, all Ludwig could reply with was a stuttered 'okay'. His brow furrowed in confusion, but before he could ask any questions, the phone line went dead.

_What's going on back in London? _Ludwig thought anxiously, as he stood back up. _And why can't I leave Austria?_

* * *

The first thing that Feliciano noticed when he woke was that there were people talking around him. They spoke of someone called Veneziano, and the Italian had to take a few moments to remind himself that they were talking about him. Letting out a shaky breath, Feliciano opened his eyes slowly.

It was too bright and the sunlight pricked at his eyes, but he couldn't find the energy to lift his arm up to block the light. Three people were talking around him – one being a girl who looked quite familiar, another being a man in a doctor's coat, and the last a man who had her hand around the girl's shoulders.

He stared at them blankly, waiting for them to notice that he was conscious. After a few moments, the girl did, and after a few seconds, she was by his side. Now that he could see her properly, he realised that she was quite beautiful in an unconventional way.

"You collapsed, and so we brought you to the town doctor." She told him, in German. It took Feliciano a few moments to translate her words in his head, but then he nodded. He opened his mouth to thank her. The phrase died on his tongue, his throat too dry to speak.

He closed his mouth, instead settling for a grateful smile. He had always thought that the idea of someone helping him was impossible, but he'd just been proven wrong. The person Feliciano assumed was the doctor made his way over to him as the girl gave him some water.

"You've got a lot of wounds." The doctor told him with a frown. "You had a few broken bones here and there, and a few strained muscles, but I've put that down to over exercising."

The doctor gave Feliciano some time to take in what he was saying, and very timidly, the Italian nodded, understanding now, why his arm hadn't moved when he'd tried to move it – it was wrapped in plaster after all.

"Malnutrition is also high on the list with why you need medical care. You need to take proper care of yourself sir..." Once again, the doctor paused, "you've got to stay in bed for a few weeks at the least."

Feliciano could feel the worry in his chest, and was about to bolt up to his defence, but the doctor stared him down with a look that made Feliciano nod timidly. Then, the doctor finished telling him about his injuries.

"I'd like it if you stayed in my care for a few days. You had a particular injury on your foot. It got infected, and you showed up here as ill as you were because of blood poisoning. You should be glad that Rose here got you to see me when she did."

Feliciano's eyes widened – when his foot had bruised... it hadn't been a bruise? No wonder it had hurt so much. He nodded, and because his throat wasn't dry anymore he replied,

"Thank you."

The doctor nodded, and left the room along with the girl, and Feliciano slowly pulled himself up to a sitting position with his good arm. How could he have hurt himself so badly and not known of it?

The Italian hoped that his injuries wouldn't make it so that he was an easy target for anyone who wanted to arrest him.

Looking out of the window of the room, and into the street, his shoulder's tensed when he realised that yes – it would make him very vulnerable to the German who was making his way through the streets to the house.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

_'Please let this be a coincidence... please don't come to the house.' _Feliciano begged inside his head, his fingers clawing at the blankets that were tucked in around him. His heart pounded against his chest, as terrified, he threw the blankets off of him. The Italian hissed in pain, and frustrated tears welled up in his eyes as he lay back down against his pillow. He didn't have any energy – he didn't stand a chance against the German.

He closed his eyes slowly, angry at himself for being so careless. Then, he groaned in pain. His arm hurt, along with the rest of his body. Everything hurt, despite the pain killers he had been put on. Lovino had told Feliciano once, that even pain killers didn't take away the pain altogether, just numbed it and made it bearable. He missed his brother so much...

"I'm here to speak to Veneziano," the German's voice was heavy with authority, and Feliciano begged himself not to cry. The thought of running was so far etched into his brain, that he'd never really thought about what would happen if he was caught. Now though, the thoughts rushed through his head, as fast as bullets. They were both deafening and quiet at the same time, and to Feliciano, it was absolutely terrifying.

The scariest part though, was that Feliciano could do absolutely nothing about it.

* * *

Ludwig had been waiting for this. The day when he could handcuff Vargas, and tell him that he was under arrest. He knew that it had taken a few months, but he was glad that the time was finally there. The doctor slowly led him to the room, brow furrowed from the news that the German had just told him. Ludwig knew that the man was trying to wrap his hands over the idea that the seemingly innocent man inside the room could have committed a crime.

Upon scanning the room, Ludwig found that bed of the room was empty, and that the window was open. His mind quickly flashed to the conclusion that Vargas had climbed through the window, and had started running, but he discarded the idea almost immediately. From what the doctor had told him about Vargas' condition, the Italian wouldn't have the energy to do much, before passing out.

He took a step into the room, surprised when he saw Vargas sat down on one of the chairs that had been out of sight by the door. He had known that the Italian wouldn't have gone far, but he'd expected him to hide or something. He'd grown rather used to the game of hide and seek that the other seemed to play.

"Vargas." Ludwig spoke icily, looking at the brunette with a cold glare. He was stunned to see that the Italian was so injured, but didn't stray too much on the fact. Instead he placed his focus on what was important – the fact that he had to apprehend the smaller man. He waited for the Italian to protest, for his eyes to widen as he realised just what was happening.

"That's me," the criminal replied, his voice drowsy, as he battled whatever pain medication he was on to stay away. His resistance didn't seem to work, and Vargas let out a yawn. Ludwig had the idea that if Vargas wasn't so drowsy, he'd have been out of the door without even a second thought.

"You're under arrest." He told the Italian, watching as the man's eyes fluttered shut. Vargas stared back at him with sleepless eyes, and he shrugged.

"I know," he yawned, "you caught me, I'm yours now."

* * *

Half asleep, Feliciano barely realised when the German and the Doctor prepared him to leave. He did however, register when they were leaving the room, and after pushing himself rather clumsily away from the German, he thanked the Doctor whole heartedly for helping him with his injuries. The German took the medicine that Feliciano would need, before picking the Italian up and making his way through the town to his car.

"Where are you taking me?" Feliciano asked, telling himself that it would not be acceptable to fall asleep in the German's arm. He couldn't deny that the man was a good pillow though, and rested his head into the man's chest.

"Jail."

The Italian knew that he should have expected that much – he knew that soon he would be wearing a prison uniform, getting abused by other prisoners for his innocent appearance. Feliciano presumed that to the German, he was just another criminal who would be brought to justice.

"What's your name?"

The man paused, and tensed slightly. Feliciano didn't know what was so wrong with his question; he wanted to know the man's name so that he didn't keep calling him 'the German' in his head. It made sense didn't it?

"Beilschmidt." The man finally replied, when he placed Feliciano somewhere. The Italian didn't wanted to ask Beilschmidt more questions, but he had a feeling in the back of his head that if he did, that the man would probably lose his temper, and Feliciano didn't know what could happen. He had just one more question to ask though,

"Is Lovino, my brother, alright?"

Beilschmidt paused, and for a while he didn't speak. Instead he focused on putting a belt around the brunette, and closing the car door. He didn't respond for a few minutes,

"When we questioned him a few weeks ago he was safe."

Feliciano let out the breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding. A few tears rolled down his cheeks, and he smiled despite his situation. He was glad that his brother's safety was intact.

"Good, I miss him very much."

Neither Feliciano nor Beilschmidt talked during the car drive – Beilschmidt focusing on the road, asking himself why Feliciano would question his brother's safety; Feliciano focusing on looking out of the window, trying not to fall to sleep.

* * *

_Sorry the chapter's short. But it's more of a filler for what'll come up soon._


End file.
